Tomorrow Will Come
by A Bullfrog's Worst Nightmare
Summary: "A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, and the birds are singing."


**A/N: Written for The Weather Challenge from the HPCF. It took me awhile to find inspiration for this, but I had fun writing this. :D Thanks for reading!**

A young Slytherin girl sat underneath a tall oak tree, trying to enjoy her last day at Hogwarts. She wasn't enjoying it at all, though. This was the place she had called home for the past six years and the train was leaving tomorrow. Her parents didn't even consider letting her finish up her seventh year.

Even though she didn't want to leave, she somewhat agreed with her parents. The Wizarding World would no longer be safe for a half blood from a muggle loving family like her.

With a hefty sigh, the girl leaned back against the rough bark of the tree and closed her eyes. There was a soft breeze that made the trees sway and it was accompanied by the sweet sound of song birds. Just as she felt her muscles relax and was about to fall asleep, there was a loud snap that came from someone stepping on a branch.

"Tired, Davis?" a voice asked.

The girl cracked open an eyelid to see who the voice to belonged to. A weedy boy with light brown hair from her own House was standing in front of her with an amused glint in his eyes. There was an old beat up book that he held loosely. Of course a day to herself was too much to ask for.

"What do want, Nott?" Tracey groaned and sat up straight. He gave her slight shrug, which only irritated her more.

"Nothing in particular," he answered and sat down on the grass next to her. He was sitting closer to Tracey than what she would have preferred. "Is it a crime to want to have a decent conversation with someone?"

"No, but who said I wanted to talk to you?" she said slowly.

"Fine, then I'll just grace you with my presence and read my book," Theodore said and opened up the old book in his lap and began to turn the yellow, crinkled pages.

Tracey was about to protest again but stopped herself when she saw he was now ignoring her. She let out another great sigh, only this time she made sure to exaggerate it as much as possible to show Theodore her displeasure. He paid no mind to her, though, and continued to flip through the ancient book.

The two Slytherins sat like that, hardly moving, for maybe five minutes before Tracey started to feel curious as to what the boy next to her was reading. The book looked like it was written in a completely different language, one she did not even recognize. Usually Tracey would be willing to read anything with words on it, but for once, a book looked unappealing and just utterly boring to her.

"What are you reading?" Tracey couldn't help but ask.

"A book," Theodore said simply. "What does it look like I'm reading?"

"No, I meant what it is about." Theodore looked up from the book in his lap and looked Tracey in the eye for a moment before smirking slightly.

"I don't know. It's written in some language my great-grandfather made up himself. He wrote a bunch of books but they're all in this made-up language," he said and adverted his gaze back to the book.

"Then why are you reading something you don't understand?" Tracey asked.

"Well, I'm not really reading it, per se. I just like the pictures," he responded and held the book out to Tracey for to see one of the pictures.

There was a large yellow and orange sun shining brightly in the background peeping out from behind some sort of hideous looking monster. A man in full armor had his sword drilled into the torso of the beast and blood oozed out of the wound it made. At the monster's feet were at least a dozen naked women chained to jagged rocks. In Tracey's opinion, it was pretty much just a picture of the basic male interests. Big weapons and women.

"I'm guessing this is the usual hero slaying monsters story," Tracey remarked. "It must have a happy ending, too."

"Judging by the pictures later in the book, probably not," said Theodore. "You could borrow them next year if you want."

"They don't seem like my type of book. Besides, you won't see me next year." Theodore gave the girl a confused look and for second, Tracey thought she saw a hint of disappointment in his expression.

"You're not coming back?" he asked, the book laying on the ground, forgotten. Tracey she shook her head slightly.

"Nope. It's not safe for a muggle loving half blood like me anymore," Tracey said sadly. Then another thought came to her. "Your dad will have a fit if he knew you willingly talk to me."

"He won't know. He can barely remember how old I am, much less who I make an acquaintance with," he murmured bitterly. "It's not even worth coming back to Howarts if you're gone."

This struck Tracey as something odd, seeing as she and Theodore never made much of an effort to become more than 'acquaintances'. He was just someone she went to if she wanted to have an intelligent conversation or play a game of chess or needed help with homework.

Tracey realized she let the silence go on too long when Theodore clearded his throat to get her attention back. She looked over at him but she didn't really have anything to say.

"Well, I enjoyed starting my day seeing your pretty face while it lasted," he said casually and stood up. He brushed the dirt off his pants and grabbed his book off the ground. "Guess I'll have to settle for second best."

"And who's second best?" Tracey asked with a small laugh.

"Not sure. I've always been holding out for the best," he answered with a wink. And with that, Theodore strolled back towards the castle.

Tracey stood up as well, squinting in the bright sunlight. She noted that many of the other students speding time outside had sorrowful looks due to the recent death of the Headmaster. Upon seeing this, she felt a sudden pang of guilt. Here she was laughing and trying to make the best of her last day at school, and everyone else is mourning the lost. It was a depressing picture, seeing so many people upset on such a perfect summer day.

Then again, laughter was always said to be the best medicine.


End file.
